


The Real Cause

by TerraCottaNightmare



Series: Like No One Ever Was [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bad Parent Sheriff Stilinski, CWP--Cuddles without plot, Canon child neglect (off screen), Derek Uses His Words, Derek is Not a Failwolf, Erica can not cook, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, He recieves cuddles, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Mostly Fluff, Pack Bonding, Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski, Peter - Freeform, Stiles Stilinski is Part of the Hale Pack, Stiles can cook, Stiles needs cuddles, but he'll be back, except, kinda angsty, off screen child neglect briefly alluded to, stiles is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 12:37:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15729555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerraCottaNightmare/pseuds/TerraCottaNightmare
Summary: The pack have been living with Stiles for a month, and have yet to run into or even see the Sheriff.





	The Real Cause

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently this is the only thing my brain will let me write. Why? No idea. I'm pretty much just along for the ride at this point.  
> Again, this story has nothing to do with Pokemon, that's just apparently what I'm naming these after and it's too late to stop now.

They’d been living with Stiles for almost a month before Derek realizes that he hasn’t actually seen the Sheriff. He sets down the knife he’d been using to chop vegetables under Stiles’ watchful eye.  
“What’s up, Sourwolf? Your forehead’s giving the Grand Canyon a run for its money.”  
Derek rolls his eyes and sniffs. “Stiles.”  
“Yes, that is indeed my name, oh broody one. Yah need some help with those veggies? The puppies are getting restless, and if you don’t finish those the chicken will be cold by they’re done and then everyone will be super sad and mopey all night.”  
Derek goes back to chopping, grumbling. “Stiles.”  
“What’s up Sourwolf?”  
“Haven’t seen your dad around much.”  
Stiles chuckles, and even a human could’ve heard the awkward, bitter undertone.  
“Yeah, he’s a busy guy, being sheriff and all. Busier than us even, I mean we deal with the supernatural shitstorm but he has to investigate it, like, after the fact, and he has a ton of paperwork, always, not to mention making the schedule and arranging patrols and-- well, he doesn’t have much free time.”  
“Does he sleep at the station or something?”  
His laugh is more nervous this time, and Derek frowns, focusing his attentions on the carrots in front of him. Something seems very, very wrong here, and the urge to protect his newest pack mate from whatever it is is nigh overwhelming.  
“Why would you say that?”  
Stiles has his back to him when glances over his shoulder, vigilantly watching over the cooking food, but the tension of his shoulders betrays his unease.  
“Because,” Derek crosses the space, sidling up beside him to add the carrots to a frying pan, “It smells more like Erica in here than it does your father, and you banned her from the kitchen almost immediately.”  
Stiles’ lips quirk up despite the way he hunches in on himself. None of them knew exactly how it’d happened, but literally the second morning they’d been there she’d managed to start a small fire. Apparently she’d been trying to make oatmeal. Stiles had banned her from the kitchen, and Derek had had to replace the ruined saucepan.  
Downstairs, Erica huffs indignantly. The other two snicker before Isaac shushes them. Derek really should teach them to be more subtle about their listening in. If Scott wasn’t apparently the most senseless wolf in the world, he’d have heard them listening in for sure.  
Stiles shifts, brushing absently against his side. “He doesn’t cook much. Which is a really, really good thing, trust me! If it involves anything more complex than microwaving something or putting things on bread, he’s like a walking disaster. He once managed to set the exposed half of the spaghetti on fire. The bottom part wasn’t even boiling yet! I have no idea how he did it, but I kicked him out of my kitchen. That was probably six years ago, now, he only comes in here for coffee.”  
“I’m not just talking about the kitchen, Stiles. I have to strain to smell even a trace of him in the living room, or the dining room. Only his room and the bathroom smell like him, and only sometimes.”  
Stiles bustles over to the sink to strain the pasta, eyes locked ahead of him.  
“Stiles.”  
His hands are shaking when Derek reaches him, placing a hand on his shoulder.  
“You smell more like Scott than you do him, and Scott’s only been by twice.”  
His shoulders slump, before straightening again. He brushes past Derek to stir the cooking vegetables.  
“Could you put the pasta in that big white bowl please, Der? Mix in some butter and maybe a little salt. A little means, like, a small pinch! I don’t care if you have, like, a super metabolism, the amount of salt you put on your food is mouth-destroying!”  
“Stiles….”  
“What do you want me to say, Derek?” His voice is flat in a way that none of them have ever heard. In the basement, Isaac and Erica whimper. Boyd growls, and Derek feels his wolf start to do the same.  
“Yeah, my dad lives more at the station than he does here. I see him twice a week at best and I can’t remember the last time he hugged me without me hugging him first. But that’s-- it’s not a big deal. It’s nothing new.”  
He turns, and though his grin is shadow of his usual, bright smile, its genuine.  
“Besides,” he hip bumps Derek on his way to the counter, a tray of chicken balanced expertly on one arm, a smaller bowl of veggies on the other, “I have you guys now.”  
Derek insists the wolves carry everything to the dining room table, and that he does the dishes afterwards while Stiles and Isaac squabble over what movie they’ll watch. Isaac may or may not let him win.  
Stiles snorts and gripes about overheating as they settle in for yet another Lord of the Rings marathon with him in a veritable pile of werewolves, loudly scoffing and asking how on Earth he’s supposed to take bathroom breaks. All the same, he snuggles into Isaac’s side and lets Erica stretch across his lap as Galadriel explains the history of the One Ring, and the bright amber pack bond in Derek’s chest hums with contented warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the fluff, because the next one is where the plot actually starts... Probably. Whenever I actually start writing it. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to let me know!


End file.
